


So very lovely

by pride_and_pancakes



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Uprooted Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pride_and_pancakes/pseuds/pride_and_pancakes
Summary: It begins, as most of Sarkan's favorite things, at the beginning.(There was a point in his long life when he believed all things began in such a way. Alas, that was before he witnessed Agnieszka opening one of the rarest, most complex spells in his library somewhere vaguely in the middle and start casting without the barest resemblance of a care for simple things like logic.)





	So very lovely

It begins, as most of Sarkan's favorite things, at the beginning.

(There was a point in his long life when he believed all things began in such a way. Alas, that was before he witnessed Agnieszka opening one of the rarest, most complex spells in his library somewhere vaguely in the middle and start casting without the barest resemblance of a care for simple things like logic.)

It's late summer, and they have yet to make their annual move back to his tower. The early morning light casts an almost golden shine on the great expanse of hair draped across the pillows on the opposite end of the bed. The nights at the Wood are still warm enough that the covers were neatly folded at the foot of the bed the night before, but not so hot as to stop a sleeping Agnieszka from finding her preferred resting place. He can't feel his left arm, so it must have happened early on, and, while her hair is now making his chin itch, the expectation of the unpleasant tingling that will precede the returning of said feeling is enough that Sarkan postpones removing her from his shoulder and getting up to begin his day.

(There is also the fact that Agnieszka has been terribly tired of late. The more malevolent of the creatures of the Wood tend to increase their activity as winter approaches, but it seems this year they have gotten an early start.)

He entertains himself with the long strands of hair that have made their way across his chest. Her hair has grown a lot in the past few years, and he has made a point of letting her know he rather likes it. He also finds the many leaves that find their way into it almost charming, although that is a detail he keeps to himself.

Sarkan reaches for one particular curl that rests against her waist, intending to make use of its natural twist to wrap it around his fingers, and then it happens. His hand brushes her side and the unmistakable tingle of magic runs through his skin. Startled, he turns to her face, expecting to meet her eyes with his own, ready to scoff at her amusement at having caught him so blatantly playing with her hair.

Agnieszka, however, has her eyes closed, and her features relaxed. After making sure she remains asleep, Sarkan lays his hand fully against her stomach.

For one long moment, nothing happens.

And then, he feels it again.

It's a subtle pulse against his palm, and Sarkan feels it twice before allowing his own magic to seep and join it. Then it becomes a jolt, the strange magic sliding up his forearm, and it brings to mind the new squirrels in spring climbing across the branches of Agnieszka's great oak, playing with each other and exploring the new world open to them.

He is well over a century old, but never before has he experienced this feeling. Even then, he knows what is right before him, and goosebumps rise on his skin.

Agnieszka has a child in her belly, and The Dragon is now a father.

It takes him by surprise, even though it shouldn't. They have been living as man and wife for almost three years now, and have not taken any steps to prevent conception. He recalls having the thought cross his mind once or twice, might have even cast the appropriated spells a few times in their early days together. But, just as he has long embraced the permanency of Agnieszka in his life, it has been a long time since he last concerned himself with such precautions.

Agnieszka also hasn't brought it up. He wonders if she knows of the baby yet. If it has developed enough to have a magical manifestation, then surely it has been at least a couple of months. Although her courses are fairly irregular, so there is a chance she hasn't realized yet.

(The Great Dragon, Powerful and Fearsome, privy to the most intimate details of a woman's physiology. Solya would laugh himself hoarse if he knew.)

(Solya could go hang.)

Sarkan allows his hand to slide against her stomach and, now that he knows what to look for, it's there. There's a sort of firmness to her lower belly he can't recall ever feeling before.

At that moment, Agnieszka shifts in her sleep, and he snatches his hand away, eyes back to her face, waiting to see of she will wake up. She doesn't, and he wonders if the recent weariness is a side effect of the pregnancy.

(Pregnancy. She is pregnant. There's a baby inside her. His baby is inside her.)

A feeling very similar to panic climbs up his throat and Sarkan has to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath in order to fight it down. He decides to go over all the pregnancy symptoms he knows. He has a theory that needs to be either confirmed or denied, and to do so he must assess the evidences.

First of all, there is morning sickness. He has no recollection of Agnieszka throwing up in the mornings, but he thinks she might have been eating less at breakfast.

There is also…Well, breast enlargement. Sarkan doesn't have to look to know hers have stayed the same. But he knows they have been more sensitive lately. He had credited the tenderness to her courses, and doesn't that make him feel like slapping himself in the face. To miss such an obvious sign!

There is the small swell he can't help but reach for again. It's a baby bump, he is sure of it. And there is the magic, fresh, delicate against the palm of his hand, like an early flower in the cold.

She is either pregnant or has a magic parasite growing in her intestines. He knows no magic parasites so benign.

(He feels like laughing and crying and celebrating all at once.)

(At one point, when he was still young, having a child, a family with the woman he fancied his one and true love was one of his favorite fantasies. Of course, it had soured soon enough and, with time, been abandoned, or so he believed.)

(The sting in his eyes begs to differ.)

(He can't remember his father. But he can be a father to someone else. To protect, to nurture, to teach. Those are all things a father is supposed to do, or so they say, and while he is very much aware of his own shortcomings, Sarkan knows he can do all of those things for a child of his own. Besides, there has never been anyone as nurturing as Agnieszka.)

(And he thinks of her, lying on their bed here or at the Tower, resting against the pillows with an impossibly small bundle in her arms, one little hand reaching out to tangle itself in her hair.)

Sarkan draws a shaky breath and presses his lips to the top of her head. The foolish, wonderful girl has once again turned his life upside down. He cogitates waking her up, so he can find out whether she knows, or suspects, and why she hasn't mentioned anything.

But, for now, he'll just close his eyes, and enjoy the soft sunlight on his face, the little puffs of breath against his neck and the even softer magic against the palm of his hand. He'll savor this moment. Everything else can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it! My contribution to the 2018 Uprooted Summer Ficathon.
> 
> This year, Father's day in Brazil is August 12nd. And the theme for the ficathon was "Enchanted". So I thought of Sarkan being enchanted at the thought of being a father.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it!


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